most
peaceful time in Casa Annunzio. Yet how pretty she was! and what a
pleasure it was to hear her speak, something between a bird and a flute.
On the whole, Marm Prudence thought her coming a thing to be thankful
for.

Talking with Don Annunzio himself that evening, Rita found him far less
guarded than his wife in his expression of patriotic zeal. He echoed her
saying, that every Mambi in the country knew where to come when he
wanted anything; and he went on to draw lurid pictures of what he would
do to the Gringos if he but had the power.

"See, senorita!" he said, in his wheezy, asthmatic voice. "I am
powerless, am I not? Already of a certain age, I am afflicted with an
accession of flesh; moreover, I am short of breath, owing to this
apoplexy of an asthma. Worse than this, my legs, if the senorita can
pardon the allusion, refuse now these two years to do their office. With
two sticks, I can hobble about the house and garden; without them,
behold me a fixture. How, then? When the war breaks out, I go to my
General, to General Sevillo, under whom I served in the ten years' war.
I say to him, 'Things are thus and thus with me, but still I would serve
my country. Give me a horse, and let me ride with you as an orderly.'
Alas! it may not be. 'Annunzio,' he says, 'your day of service in the
field is over. Stay at home, and help our men when they call upon you.
Thus you can do more good ten-fold than you could do in the saddle.'

"_Ohime_! my heart is broken; it is reduced to powder, but what will
you? reason, joined to authority,--I am but a simple man, and I obey.
Since then, I sit and whittle splints for my admirable wife. A woman,
senorita, to rule a nation! The Gringos pass by, and see me working at
my trade. I greet them civilly, I supply requisitions when backed by
authority; again, what will you? I suffer in silence till their back is
turned, and my maledictions accompany them along the road. Ah! if none
of them had longer life than I wish him, the road would be encumbered
with corpses. Then,--draw your chair nearer, senorita, if you will have
the infinite graciousness,--then, at night--it may be this very
night--the others come. Hush! yes--the Mambis; the sons of Cuba.
Quietly, by ones, by twos, they appear, dropping from the sky, rising
from the earth. Then--ha! then, you shall see. Not a word more,
Senorita Margarita! Donna Prudencia is a pearl, an empress among women,
but rightly named; she complains that I